


A Whole New World

by BetrothedWoolSweater



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Dysmorphia, Canon Compliant, Character Study, He/Him and It/Its Pronouns for Michael | The Distortion (The Magnus Archives), Hurt/Comfort, It/Its Pronouns For Michael | The Distortion (The Magnus Archives), Original Characters - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, but its ok in the end, it has some issues to sort out, michael getting used to being an avatar, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29856876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetrothedWoolSweater/pseuds/BetrothedWoolSweater
Summary: Michael deals with unbecoming.In which it learns how to survive as an avatar, and deals with the aftermath of Shelleys ended existence.
Kudos: 9





	1. A New Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)  
> Content warnings for this chapter
> 
> Body pain and discomfort  
> Identity distress  
> Minor themes of disreality  
> And minor depictions of violence

It drew in its first breathe.

It opened its eyes, acheing and confused. It was back down, stareing up at a ceiling. It stayed like that for a good long while, body far too broken and twisted to move. It tried to bend its neck, or reflection of one, and pain jolted down what might be its spine. So it stayed that way, closeing its eyes again and trying occasionally to shift.

The halls around it where comforting, warm and sturdy, safe. It felt fatigue roll over it and it remained still on the ground, or maybe the ceiling, untill it fell back into its state of rest.

Michael had only existed for a very short time. A tiny speck compared to other things. So this meant it also knew very little. From what it could gather it knew the following.

One, it hurt. Alot.  
Two, its vessel was formed and cared for by the Twisting  
Three, it was tired  
Four, it was really, really, tired.

It curled into the tightest shape it could, the halls compressed agaisnt it and it stayed as such until its form didnt feel like it was being ripped apart and restrung, untill its form didnt feel like it had teeth and claws pulling its very being to peices. It felt the walls weight leave its sides and it cracked open its eyes to finaly look at itself. It immediately wished it hadnt, everything about it was so wrong, and instead turned its attention the halls around it. The wall paper lined, with soft colors that seemed to shift hues every so often. The place was... Nice.  
It streched, shaking it head and lifting one of its pointed hands to its hair. Long and blonde, the edges frizzy and unruly as it combed threw them curiously. It was unsure of many things, what it was, where it was, how to it was. It started to try snd peice them together while it started to walk, acheingly slow down the hard wood floor, legs shakey and unsupportive of the weight they had to carry. Michael, that was the name it was given. It was, home, it was pretty sure atleast.  
How it was?  
It existed out of spite, out of the ended scraps of a failed ritual, the physical evidence of failure.

It walked for a while, trying to get the hang of its body until it was pretty sure it was right. It glanced at one of the doors neareast to it. It opened it, slowly, unsure, and glanced out. On the other side was the streets of London. The door opened in an alley, at such an angel it coudl peak out and see the bussling side walks and shops. People passing by and talking on phones, or shopping, or going to and from work. It stared, it did not want to leave. Here was safe, warm, soft. No harm could befall it here. So it quickly shut the door with a click and pulled away, wrapping itself back up in a tight bubble of existence and trying to wash itself of everything. It did not like its existence, it hurt, everything was confusing and new. It was, scared, of every feeling it might be able to feel in the momment it was afraid. 

It didnt understand, why did it exist like this. So small and breakable. Its feelings bleed from it and it curled deeper inside of the twisting walls. It sheiled itself from everything though, safe and content inside whatever protetive home it had found itself in. It had no idea how long it had been, there was no clocks here, but after a long ammount of time of crawling and collapsing and crying, it felt a pull to leave. It very mcuh did not want to. The outside was cold and open, and it was still confused and scared, but it knew it woudl find no answers doing this. 

It unfurled and stalked to a door, creaking it open and peering out. It was tucked into the corner of a street, between two small shops and a tunnel, with steps leading down into a tube station. Very few people where on the streets, the sky was dark obsidain grey, with tufts of clouds covering the stars. The rain was coming down steadily. Some rolled off the roof and pattered onto Michael, it shrunk back behind to the door, before bringing its hand to the damp spot of its head. It stared at the wet shine of water on its finger tips and looked bsck at the rain falling before cautiously sticking its head back out, and than slowly its hand, resting gently on the door frame before creeping out fully. It stood under an overhang, very little water ended up touching it but every drop that did sent a shiver down its spine at the unfamiliar contact.

It began to walk, unsure of everything around it. It pulled up the hood on the coat that hung over its frame, the fabric was ruffed up, torn in a couple spots but the dark olive green helped hide some of the worn aspects of it. It quickly pocket its hands, glancing at the single man making his way down the street, black umbrella held firmly in his palm as he walked. It tried to mentaly note some of his mannerisms as he past, maybe it could still use practice. The man walked down into the tube, feet hitting the damp stone with heavy thumps as the sound slowly echoed down. It continued its treck, its old boots hit the wet street with a quite scuff. Maybe it should get new clothes, its current pair where rather mudied up. 

Lost in thought it hardly noticed the shadows from the alley start to shift, bending towards it slowly. It felt somthing grab at its ankle and pulled back sharply. It stared at the thing began to shift, blurred in with the dark to the point it couldn't make it out. The thing streched towards it again, fast this time and darting at it with such predatory speed. It yelped and stumbled, back hitting the wall of a shop as it avoided being hit.  
It made out a face on the thing and it circled it, the shadow snarled, "Whats something so weak like you doing out here?" It hissed, before charging Michael again, paw like limbs scrapping against stone as it jumped at it, this time hitting  
Michael square in the chest and knocking it back onto the pavement. It drew back its lips while it grumbled in a deep flemmy voice,  
"You reak of fear young thing, crawl back home before something worse finds you."

Michael expected it to dig its dark twisting teeth into its throat bur instead it crawled off its chest and snaked back to the alley, leaving Michael sprawled out on the dirty London street. The shadow thing turned around and loombed even at a distance, "I wasnt kidding you know, those burning cultists have been wandering 'round latley, would get a kick out of seering you."  
It barked a chesty animalistic laugh before disolving deeper into the dark, leaving Michael to catch its breathe. Rattled, it slowly picked itself up, glancing around as it gathered its sences. It wanted to go home, it changed its mind, it wanted nothing more than to curl up warm in the confines of the halls. It quickly paced to the nearest wall and placed its hand to it, it shut its eyes and felt a brass handle press into ita palm and opened it desperately, sprinting in and capsing in the safe walls of the halls. The door closed with a click and it leaned its back to a wall. It did not think it enjoyed the streets of London very much.


	2. Through Every Open Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter
> 
> Mentions of hunger  
> Violence  
> Being hunted  
> Blacking out

Michael was starting to get a better at most things, but not by much. It was having to learn about the world around it without anyone or anythings help, so it was all on it to learn. It had hid away in the halls for quite a while after its interaction with the shadow, nerves fried and its reflection of a heart pounding in its chest. 

It was starting to think it didnt need to breathe, but it tentatively placed a hand to its chest and took in a long dreep breath, trying to steady it compared to the frantic inhales it had been taking earlier. Its chest rose and fell with the breathe, and it blinked slowly at this. Turning its attention towards the hand that laid on its chest. It was pretty sure its fingers where too long, that most fingers didnt tapper off into sharp claw like nails. It slowly removed it from its chest and ran its thumb across the floor. The plank splintered open apon contact and Michael pulled back, before stareing down at its hands again. It tilted its head and brought one finger tip to its forarm, pushing up the fabric a bit before lightly dragging its nail across what might be its skin. The flesh tore, and blood blossomed up from the clean line and Michael pulled away at the light sting.

Michael stood, still engrossed by this discovering and began to head for a door, clicking it open with a creak and peering out into the world. The door had opened in the middle of downtown London, it was day time but grey clouds still covered the sky from last evening. It slowly stepped out and began to slink its way down the street, staying close to the walls and eyes tracking everyone that past it. It glanced down at its clothes, a little more tidied sence its last, adventure? Trip, its last trip out. It had cleaned up a little, wiping off some of the visaul grim and folding the tears in to atleast have the aperence of cleanliness.  
Its thoughts took a sharp turn as it made its way past a coffee shop, and the smell of the warm drinks made it realize how hungry it was. It paused, stareing into the glass at the people at the tables before continuing down the side walk. It would prefer not to have civilians comeing in contact with its form. Just the thought of fingers brushing while passing the employee money sent an unpleasant chill through it. But the concept if food was, apealing right now. It looked up from its feat and glanced around, it was surrounded by people but the nagging anxiety of something eles like it finding it and hunting it down.  
The shadow had mentioned "burning cultists" and it would like to think it would be able to spot a bunch of cultists but, than again it didnt fully know what cultists where in the first place.

It stumbled into an alley, tired of getting bumped and moved by the people on the streets. It disnt know where it was going, the alley at least was warmer than the streets, it was heated by its coat but the cold breeze made it wish it had a scarf, it should really go clothing shopping. The idea of having to interact with people made it repusled though, their far to loud, except it to talk to them, to allow them to perceive it. It almost audibly hissed at the thought but paused, it heard a scraping, like metal on stone. It tilted its head up and focussed purily on listening, frozen in place as it keened in on the direction. It was about to peer around the corner to investigate, but something fell on its back' slamming it to the ground. It yelped in suprise and tried to kick the attacker off but they already had their hands around its shoulders, pressing it harder into the pavement. It glared up as it tried to scramble free, the person on top of it was a women, buff in stature and with dark black hair pulled back into a bun, and eyes a sharp hue of green. It hissed and tried to pull away but the lady already was doing so, jumping back and sneering down at it, gaze taunting.  
"They werent kidding! Aw-" she made a patronizing cooing noise as Michael lashed out at her, one hand darting at her cheek but she was already doging back. "Your young, and bold ill give you that." She snarled as she pulled out two small daggers from her back pocket and flung one at Michael. It swerved out of the way as it hit the wall, but hestitated as the other one wipped throught the air, lodging into its shoulder. Michael wimpered and brought a hand to the blade, its fingers came back red. It shook as blood started to dampen its coat and it atared up at the women as she backed it into a corner.

"Maybe if you had someone to teach you-" the lady's eyes glinted as she stared down on Michael, who was pressing its back into the stone wall in a despreate plee to get distance between it and its attacker. "-Maybe than you would have lasted longer but, you know, cant have young reckless avatars running around." She pulled a 3rd blade from her wasit band an aproched, her walk was predatory and smooth, eyes seemed to pin Michael in its place as she neared it. Its hair flared up in a weak attempt to try and look like the bigger opponant here, but it was obviously not working as she charged, easily pinning it to the wall and wedging the knife right against its throat. She didnt sink it in, not yet, and Michael stared at her with a pleading gaze as it felt the blade start to cut.  
"Sylvia, enough, stop toying with kids." A voice hissed from behind them and the lady puffed a heavy annoyed breathe onto Michaels face, it smelt like ciggerates and dinner ham.

The lady glared at it, giving it one hard shove back into the wall before wipping around to glance at the other person. Michael crumpled to the ground, legs unable to support it as relief flood through it. It placed a hand to its neck, only finding a small amount of blood and a light sting from where the tip teased the skin. 

"Oh come on, its walking around not even concealing itself, thats fully on it. If it didnt want to get hunted maybe it should do a better job at-"  
"Sylvia we arnt having this arguement right now, we've talked about this." The second voice was gruff, and a little scratchy but had a calming pressence to it. Michael tried to pull itself off the ground before they could change their mind and ended up killing it anyway, but its bad shoulder gave out and pressed the blade deeper into the shoulder, and it bite its tounge to avoid the whimper of pain that threatened to spill over.  
The lady, Sylvia, glared down on it and it flinched back under her gaze. 

"Pick it up, we're taking it home to patch it up."  
"What?"  
"Did I stutter? This is your mess, I'm tired of cleaning up for you. We dont need It-who-twists to get on our ass even after you went and messed with those Burners-"  
"Hell no! Im not bring this thing into our house!"  
"Maybe you should have thought twice before trying to make a messy kill than."

The mix of pain and blood loss making the world spin beneath Michael and it rested its head on the pavement, trying to ignore the festering in its shoulder as it closed its eyes.


	3. Eyes Open at Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cw for this chapter :)
> 
> Feelings of being threatened  
> Smoking  
> Shouting and Arguments

Michael woke slowly, its whole body ached and it huffed out little breathes before opening its eyes. It was splayed out on a couch, the thing was worn, the fabric was scritchy and stained. Multple blankets were laid on Michael and it glanced around to see a cup of water and a note left on the coffee table next to it. It lifted its hand to grab it but a jab of pain in its shoulder made it reconsider. It scooted to the edge of the couch, leaning over to the table to try and read the passage but heavy foot steps made it shrink back under the cover as a figure rounded the corner and stared at it.  
"Good, your awake." Grumbled the women from before, her dark hair down and laid out on her shoulders. She leaned a broad shoulder on the wall, painted a dingy orange. Michael stared up at her, blinking as she raised an eye brow. "You can speak, can you?"  
Michael paused and nodded, and this got an annoyed sigh from the lady.  
She didnt seem to have much more to say, just leaning agaisnt the wall and stareing down at Michael. It was able to talk, it wasnt lieing about that. It had made some loose noises, some hums and cooes. It understand and deffently could speak the english language, but it hadnt heard its voice. It had no idea if it would sound like how people would sound like.  
The women, Sylvia? Quickly wipped out what looked to be a burner phone and dialed something into it before turning her back to Michael.  
The phone picked up with a click and she opened her mouth but her words dwindled out as the other side started speaking.  
"Yeah."  
"No."  
"I understand."  
"..."  
"But, if you could just come down here-"  
"..."  
"No, no, I understand."

She nodded, chewing on her bottom lip and waiting as the other side hung up. She paused before throwing the phone at the love seat across from Michael, and it sunk back deeper into the blankets. Sylvia ran and hand down her neck and groaned, "Sorry..." She hissed under her breathe before turning back to Michael. She frowned, "So, you just not goin' to say anythin', this whole time?" She had an accent, it sounded sterytypicaly southern american. "Um." Michael blurted out and looked away from the lady, stareing down at the old oak floors.  
The lady sighed and walked closer, walking around the coffee table as Michael tried to slink back. "Calm down, not gonna hurt you." 

She plopped down on the covers next to Michael and crossed her legs, leaning back into the sqeaky sofa. Michael peered at her as she pulled a pack of ciggerates from her pocket and began shuffling around in her jacket pocket.  
Pressing the roll between her lips and pulling a lightner out.  
She eyed it as she dragged out the smoke, it rolled out from her lips and nose and Michael stared, captised by the way the smog twisted in the air, turning and dancing untill dissipating.  
She glanced at it, an amused snarl on her lips.  
Her hand leaned forward as she proposed the ciggerate to Michael.  
It brought its hand up, ignoreing the ache in its shoulder as it reached for it. But Sylvia pulled back,  
"Whats your name?"  
Michael frowned, or tried to, it thought it was doing it right.  
"Tell me your name and you can have a go."  
Michael swallowed, and stared at the cindering roll before locking eyes with Sylvia.  
"Michael."  
It watched as a small crept across her face but as she said ahe handed the ciggerate off it Michael. It realized rather soon it doesnt know what to do, so it just walked through the motions that Sylvia did. Inhaleing and pulling its hand away, handing it back to Sylvia who took in her own drag. Michael breathed out, fascinated by the way the smoke curled in on itself and swirled out from its lips.

The lady laughed, short and chesty, and smirked at Michael. "Ok, now we're getting somewhere. Tell me Michael, what are you doing by yourself. Doesnt the Twisting have a following to watch you?" She questioned as she puffed out another batch of smoke. Michael blinked.  
She stared at it, pausing to pull the ciggerate from her mouth and squinting, "You mean to tell me you havnt talked to a single one of your own..?"  
Michael opened and closed its mouth before Sylvia sighed, pressing her fingers to her nose bridge. "Jesus... You've been by yourself for how long? A week, a month?"  
Michael leaned back, she seemed mad.  
She pulled back again, "Sorry, not annoyed with you. Just-" ahe flicked her hand in a circlur motion. "- this." She sighed as she took another drag.  
There was a sudden noise of a door opening and closeing, Sylvia perked up, grinding the half smoked ciggerate into the couch arm, burning yet another pock mark stain into the beige material.  
Foot steps followed, from the sounds if it, up a flight of stairs, before the door handle twisted opened. There stood another women, taller than Sylvia and with longer hair, braided and pulled up into a messy pony tail. She locked eyes with Sylvia, before slowly eyeing Michael. It prefered the way she looked at it compared to Sylvia, who always seemed to have a predatory glint behind her gaze.  
The lady neared, her camo jacket swayed slightly as she silently crossed the room. Michael glanced to Sylvia for answers but she remind quite, hands folded and her posture more professional than before. Michael had focused on her that it didnt notice the other women untill her hand was on its shoulder. It pulled back sharply, hissing as it pressed itself into the couch. She drew back her hand and blinked, "Alright. Ok." She tried to sooth but Michael scowled, backing its body into the corner of the couch as ridigly as it could. 

Sylvia made a facail expression Michael didnt know how to pick apart yet and the other women sighed, putting her palm to her cheek and rubbing slightly on the tawny skin. She hummed softly as she pulled away, Michaels initcail trust was gone as she seemed to exame it with her eyes alone. Sylvia stood up, hands floundering at her sides as she started,  
"Could we... Discuss this in the kitchen?" She asked, voice not nearly as certain as when she was speaking to Michael.  
The other ladied nodded and Sylvia waved a hand to an open entry way that supposedly lead to the kicthen, though Michael couldnt see it.  
They both started to head for the room, Michael decompressed itself and leaned forward, watching curiously as they dissapeared fron eye site. 

It could hear muffled voices but its thoughts where eles where. Sylvia seemed annoyed at the fact it was by itself. Was that... A bad thing? It relatively enjoyed being by itself, the only two encounters it has had so far started with violence so, it was pretty sure it was ok on its own. 

The voices got a little more louder and slightly heated before the other women stormed out of the kitchen, and straight for Michael. It curled in on its self starting to draw its lips up in a deffensive hiss before it stopped, she was glareing down at it in such a way that made it freeze.  
It was aware of Sylvia's shouting as she stomped in but the lady had already reached Michael, looming over it as she observed it.  
"Right could you just-"  
Sylvia put a hand on the womens shoulder and pulled hard, shoving her away from Michael.  
"Clove look, I get it, but also this-" she waved her hand loosley in Michaels direction. "-isnt helping us! It has no ties to anyone, its litterly just been wondering around by itself and sticking its nose where it doesnt belong."  
The other women, Clove, glared at Sylvia and sighed, "Well, figure something out, I'm getting real sick and tired of having to clean up after you, either find a cult site, or those weird god damn hallways. And try and do it before I get back to town." Her voice was curt, but still flew off the tounge, like the whole thing was just some script to her. 

Sylvia opened her mouth to say something back but Michael propted itself up. "The halls?"  
Clove and Sylvia turned and stared at it and it shrunk back.  
Cloves head tilted, "Yeah, do you know of them?" She asked, pulling her hands from her sides to her pockets. Michael nodded enthusiastically and felt a small grin pull at its lips. Clove raised her eye brows and blinked slowly, Michael was pretty sure that was a sign of trust if it wasn't mistaken. "Hm, so you know Gabriel?" 

Michael went frigid, any built up warmth from the interaction gone in an instant. Something about the name was so starkly familiar but it could pin it down, the fleeding memorys escaped from it right before it could figure out where it knew that name from.  
Sylvia wispered soemthign to Clove and her eyes widened, "Oh... You, you know what? Never mind sorry, forget I asked." She spoke, nodding slightly. Michael looked up at them, holding the pilled blanket in its hands. Sylvia butted in, "So, you live in the halls, right? Or like, inhabit them?" She asked.  
Something about their questions pinched at Michael, a minor discomfort but it nodded non the less. Sylvia seemed to beam, turning to Clove. 

"See? There. Done and easy as that."  
Clove frowned, "I'm not so sure, how the hell are we supose to even get it back there." Michael crooked its head as it listened to them bicker. It wondered how long this would go before they realized getting back was not one of its concerns.  
"We could maybe, I dont know, ask the thing that lives there where we could find them?"  
"Right, yes, because as seen before its very vocal. Thanks for the suggestion why didn't I think of that sooner."  
"Ok smart ass. Look, if you have any better ideas lets hear them."

They continued like that for a while, uselessly argeuing back in forth before Michael got tired of it, twisting its wirst slightly before the creek of a door cut through Sylvia and Cloves bickering. They stood there in a second of shock before Syvlia wipped around to Michael.  
"That was an option the whole time." It really wasnt a question the way she framed it.  
Michael nodded slowly, she seemed upset, it would rather not have her stab it again.  
She stared at it before a smile started to pull at her lips and she turned around to Clove.  
"There."  
Clove sat in stoned silence, eyes tracking from Michael to the alightly ajar door.  
"I'm... You? Actaully-"  
She looked to Sylvia than to Michael. "- please leave."  
Michael blinked.  
"Now."  
It nodded and pulled the blanket off of it, sliding past them apprehensivly. It grabbed its coat fron the sofa arm rest and covered its sweater in it, before slipping into the door, pausing first before shutting it and walking in.  
"Could..."  
It paused and wet its lips.  
"Could you tell me about some of the others?"


	4. Red Handed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cws for this chapter  
> Entity hunger  
> Violence  
> Heavy description of blood  
> Smoking  
> Michael has issues and boy does it not cope well

Michael walked through the streets, rain pelting it as it stormed past people and towards the parking lot of a near by mall.  
The two women where cautious with their details, but told it that there was another creature akin to it that held up in one of the run down arcades.  
Michael swiftly climbed the steps, the noise of its boots echoeing up the concrete stair well, creating a rythme.  
Two people walked past, heading down towards the ground floor, their eyes stung into its back as it hurried. It didnt know why it was in such a rush, answers it suposed. It wasnt a being that needed to know but, it was cold and drenched with rain, surrounded by snarling beasts that kicked and stabbed it, and it wasnt even sure what it was.

Quickly it reached the first floor, eyes scanning over the mostly barren parking lot, a couple cars where speinkled about but it was a mid afternoon work day for most, and the only people it could see was a group of men chain smoking and a women reading alone in her car. It glanced back up the stairs and continued. As it climbed, checking each floor as it went, it could feel a discomfort building in its chest. A tight sort of feeling, almost like it was out of breathe, but air was sonething it didnt need most times.  
It got to the second to last floor and froze. There was something there. The lot was empty all exept an old blue truck, and figure. It was dark, hidden by the shadow but was inexcusably a short, semi muslcar person. Michael blinked and moved forward, he seemed like just some guy, hints of It-Who-Rots and It-Who-Twists, but not the figure the women had described. Cautiously, it edged forward, footsteps being the only quite noise aside fron the rain droplets bleeding through the cracks in the cieling. 

The man turned, caught eyes with Michael and grinned. It was nothing like the womens, angry and hungry smirk, this was softer and rounded. "Ah, was wondering how long it would take for you to find me."  
He stepped out of the shadows to reveal his face, pale and with choclate brown eyes and stark black hair. A claw like scar curved down his cheek and jaw, leaving pale pink lines in its wake. "The others where throwing quite the fit you know."  
Michael tilted its head, and the man leaned agaisnt one of the concrete pillars. "Do you have a name for yourself yet?"  
Michael blinked back, and the man returned the gesture.  
"I think... Michael."  
The man nodded, and stuck out his hand, his palm was broad, covered in what apeared to be blister scars. "You may not have my name, but its a pleasure to meet you Michael."  
Michael slowly mimiced the mans behavior, pulling its hand from its pocket and reaching out. The mans eyes flashed towards Michaels before shaking it. Michael inhaled sharply, the pressure was uncomfortable to say the least, and pulled away the second the man was done. 

"So, im sure you have questions. Spirals not known for guiding its kids." Michael had no idea what half of those words meant but just nodded along, blonde hair curling. The man waved it over and began to walk, towards a over walk connecting the lot to the old mall. Michael hesitated before following, nervously eyeing the man as the two of them continued towards the building.

With no cover above them, the heavy rain continued to batter down on Michaels already worn apearal. The man tossed it a glanced, "Theres still a shop or two open, do you want me to buy you a new coat-"  
"No." Michael interupted curtly, grabbing the sleeves of its jacket in a possevive jester.  
The man tossed up his hands, "Alright, alright. Atleast let me find a laundry mat we can stop at."  
Thet walked in relative silence after that, until they reached the entrence and the man held the door open for Michael, who paused before slowly creeping inside. The man followed suite, pointing to one of the tables at the nead by empty food court. From the looks of it the small was at the end of uts life, almost all the shops had metsl gates stopping anyone from entering snd there was only two food boothes open. Holloe music played in the distance as they sat down.  
"So... Questions?" The manfolded his hands on the table infront of them, his grey bomber jacket bunching uo at his wrists.  
Michael inhaled, trying to settle the crawling feeling behind its ribs.  
"Um... What is, why am I?"  
The man closed his eyes and let out a breathless laugh.  
"Starting broad, alright. Well to be blunt, I have no idea. Your not an avatar but your certaintly no person. That being said your not bound to an artifact, unless you count the halls. So-"  
He stumbbled for a secound, picking his words csrefully. "You just, are."  
Michael felt sick, light headed and its chest had a horrible sinking feeling, like someone hsd switched its blood with lead.  
It wasnt aware of how long it hsd been stareing at the floor before the man pipped in again, grabbing Michaels attention back.  
"You really havnt hunted anything huh."  
Michael blinked, opening and closeing its mouth in an attempt to form any coherent sentence.  
"What?"  
The mans face softened, a pitying look in his eyes. "She really left you as nothing."

That.  
That snapped something in Michael.

It had been trying to avoid those thoughts, any of the riseing nausiating emotions aurrounding its enter start of existence.  
But it slammed its hands hard on the table and rose far too fast, almsost falling over from the vertigo that hit it.  
"Do not." It growled, all too aware the watching eyes of the employees at the food booth across from them. It breathed out heavily, and the main stared at it with an almost blank expression.  
"All right, sit down no need to through a fit."  
Michael brought itself back together, sitting back in the uncomfortable seet, but still glareing at the man through its hair. 

They sat in silence as the man stared at Michael, causing an uncomfortable, borderline painfull, pinching feeling on the serfice of its skin.  
The man sighed, before standing up abruptly,  
"Ok, come on."  
He began walking, Michael considered not following him out of petty spite, but gathered itself and scamppered after.  
The man lead them back towards the parking lot, throwing soemthing away in the trash can nesr by before checking over hsi shoulder to make sure Michael was still there. 

Michael was trying really hard to walk in a straight line, to look even half human but something about being around this man shook it of any ability to be coherent. It almost tripped a couple times whiel their crossed back over the walk way.

They gathered under the mostly dry awning, Michael curled in on itself as the man leaned agaisnt the pillar. He pulled a ciggerate from his coat and lite it, exhaling throught a cloud of smoke and leaning back, locking eyes with Michael. "Want one? Tends to ease the hunger."  
Michael nodded egearly, dropping the anger momments ago and reaching for the unlight ciggerate in the mans hand, keeping still as he charred the paper eith the embers of his own.  
Michael brought it to where its mouth generaly was, inhaling and feeling the dingy warmth fill where its lungs should be. It kept it there until it stung and bresthed out, the ashy tendrils curled in unnaturaly so.  
The atayed like that for a while, and he had been right, the smoke did help soothe the clawing feeling in its chest.  
The man was starejng at Michael though, it wasnt going to say anything but he was already started on another useless conversation.  
"It-Who-Chases clings to you, did you have a run in?"  
Michael shrugged, blowing another cloud of smoke into the air and watched as it moved on in the damp air. The man sighed, annoyed Michael guessed.  
Michael wasnt paying attention when the man decided he had enough of their smoke break, grabbing something from his theigh and grabbing Michael by the shoulder. He flipped a swith blsde to its throat, eyes catching if the fsint scar that the hunters had left.  
Michael twiated slightly under hsi grasp but he made no action to actaully hurt ir, just pin it down.  
"Look, im willing to help so long as your cooperative." He said hushly, but the longer Michael was pressed it the concrete pillar the more it felt the need to escape, to pish the man off it.  
The man pressed his foot hard on Michaels boots, pressing the knife a little firmer into its neck.  
"So what will it be? Wanna play nice or-"  
Michael didnt let hin finish.  
It thrashed agaisnt the man, causing him to nick its neck before falling backwards. But Michael didnt give him the chance to get up. It was so tired of being the one being kicked while down. And the knawing hunger to rip this man to pieces was at the front of its mind. It grabbed his shoulders and pushed him farther into a puddle of rain water snd oil, clinging to his jacket and the man fought to get up. Michsel stared down at him, feeding off the frienzied anger in his eyes and Michael toyed with him. Pushing back and allowing him to stunble up, just for a breif second before lunging again. This time not knocking him to tbe ground, but wrapping its claws around his throat, and sqeazing. The man let out a muted scream, quickly cut off by the blood gurgling up his throat.

Michael dropped the body to the ground, relishing the last tendels of fear as the man convulsed on the ground, despretly trying to cover his torn tissue, but he was alresdy growing slow and weak.  
Michael stummbled back, the rush faded and it stared at its hands. Soaked in blood, that it brought to its mouth to taste, rembering the way the hunfer had done. It was irony and slick, Michael scrunched up its face, spitting the taste back onto the floor before stareing down at the man. Gore was leaking out into the puddle surrounding him, and Michael ducked down next to him, pulling the ciggerate box from his front pocket.  
It was about to slip back into the halls when it remebered the man tossing something into the shallow trash bin, slinking over to the near by box and peering in. Ontop was a crumpled note that it plucked out and unfirled.  
The langauge wasnt somerhung it understood, in messy swirling letters, but it pocketed the note and glanced down at the body one last time before slipping away into the halls, left with more questions than before.


End file.
